The Knowing: Aftershocks
by M C Pehrson
Summary: Story #53 In the months following the Great Quake, Teresa's behavior baffles Spock and Lauren. This is the first of two "Knowing" stories that deal with the same events as seen through differing viewpoints.


A scream in the night roused Lauren. Her heart pounding, she reared up from her pillow, but Spock was already out of bed, in his robe, heading out the door.

"Not again," she said tiredly.

A moment later the shrieking stopped. With a sigh she lay back and eased her right leg into a more comfortable position. It always hurt more at night and now her head was throbbing, too. She tried her best to ignore the pain, but there was no way to ignore Jamie's nightmares. Practically every night he woke screaming from a bad dream. Monsters. Always monsters. But Lauren knew what was really bothering their son. James had not been the same since the Big Quake buried them in the rubble of their home. Oh, outwardly he seemed fine, and maybe that was part of the problem. The boy always held things inside, as if he were fully Vulcan, instead of just looking like one. His sister Teresa was more emotional, and she rarely had nightmares.

Spock returned to the dark bedroom and settled in beside her. She held her breath, waiting for him to start in about moving from here, about how at least their eldest son Simon was safely settled in New York with Lauren's mother, attending the Julliard School of Music. Spock wanted all of them out of the earthquake zone, but Lauren kept resisting. She clung tight to the familiarity of the beach house. Despite the continuing tremors, she felt secure here. Maybe the seismic activity would subside and they could rebuild in San Francisco.

For now Spock was silent, but through their bond she seemed to sense anger stirring. He quickly put himself to sleep, as only a Vulcan could, but Lauren lay awake long into the night.

oooo

At breakfast, Lauren sipped coffee and stared at the painting propped against a wall near the kitchen table. They had recovered so few of their belongings from the downed section of the old house. Why, of all things, had the Chagall survived?

"That thing is hideous," she declared. "I've always thought so."

Spock looked up from his plate and cocked an eyebrow at the "Expulsion from Paradise". Studying the salvaged painting, he said, "I would not use so strong a term. Its coloration is quite interesting…and I find it strange how the depiction always seems to reflect our circumstances."

"Yes," Lauren agreed, "it's uncanny. I swear that poor Eve is even limping along on a bad leg."

Teresa spoke up. "Uncanny? What's that mean?"

"Eerie," Lauren explained. "Creepy."

James stopped spooning cereal into his mouth and glanced at Teresa beside him. Then turning back to Lauren, he said, "Mom, I can tell you something creepy. _Really_ creepy."

Teresa glared at him. "You promised!"

"I never should have!" James shot back.

"But you did!"

The sudden altercation had drawn their father from his thoughts—some distant place where he seemed to spend a great deal of time these days. Sternly he said, "That will be quite enough."

The children exchanged venomous glances and fell silent. But not for long.

Out of the blue James revealed, "Teresa says she has a hole in her closet. She goes in there and talks to people. I heard her."

All the blood seemed to drain from Teresa's face.

Lauren looked at Spock. Once more he shrugged his eyebrow as if to say, "Now what?"

She turned her attention back on the children. "I'm sure," she said carefully, "that Teresa was only playing a game. Weren't you, honey?"

Teresa stared at the table and said nothing.

Lauren tried again. "There isn't really a hole in your closet. No one really lives in there. Isn't that right, Teresa?"

The girl sat perfectly still.

Spock finished eating and rose from the table. "I'm going out to Starfleet," he said without further explanation.

"But it's Saturday," Lauren objected.

"I will not be long."

Lately he had been "going out to Starfleet" practically every day. He was developing that closed expression she had come to know well over the years. Something was in the works. Something secret.

"Spock," she said, "you retired from Starfleet. They aren't talking you into another one of those diplomatic assignments, are they?"

"I am merely consulting," he answered smoothly.

"About what?"

He looked pointedly at the children before saying, "It is all quite technical. I will explain later." And he was out the door.

Annoyed, Lauren turned and studied Teresa's secretive face. She and her father were quite a pair.

oooo

Spock returned shortly after noon. The children had been bickering all morning; Lauren needed to get out and take a stroll along the beach, for the good of her nerves as well as her leg. She was about to leave when a small earthquake jolted the house. Letting out a startled cry, she rushed into Spock's arms, then felt foolish. She did not like admitting to the fear she experienced each time the ground shook. It would only start Spock talking about the need to move.

James came pounding down the stairs.

"Where's Teresa?" Lauren asked him. A tremor normally brought her running, too.

"In her bedroom," James said, "back in the closet."

Moving carefully because of her leg brace, Lauren went up alone to check on her. She found Teresa sitting on the floor in front of her closet, staring into the dark opening.

"Teresa?"

The child did not move a muscle.

It was September and house was quite warm, but Lauren felt a sudden chill. She limped over and touched the top of her daughter's fair head.

Teresa looked up at her, blue eyes opened very wide. And she whispered, "There's a hole. In there. Right on the bottom of my closet."

 _"What?"_ The chill deepened. Then Lauren thought of mice…or worse yet, rats. It would not be the first time rodents gnawed into this old house, but she was not about to poke around in the closet looking for them.

She called down to Spock and stood at a safe distance with Teresa, watching him conduct a search with his flashlight.

After a couple of minutes Spock came out and declared, "There are no mice. There is no hole—not even a small one."

"Yes there is," spoke a quiet voice.

Lauren and Spock both looked at Teresa.

"It's there," she said softly.

"There is _nothing_ there," Spock repeated.

Deadly serious, Teresa turned and gazed into the closet. _"He_ was there," she said just above a whisper.

"Who?" Lauren asked.

"A boy."

"What boy?"

"Robby," Teresa said and continued in a soft, slow voice that made Lauren shiver. "His name is Robby Clay. He's eight years old. He lives in a city, behind a tall metal fence covered with ivy. His father is a professor."

Lauren raised her eyebrows at Spock. His silence surprised her. She had expected him to start lecturing the child about lying.

Putting her hands on Teresa's shoulders, she leaned over so their eyes were on the same level. "Honey, why didn't you say all this at breakfast?"

Teresa cast a wary glance at her father and drew in a deep breath. Then she said, "I needed to ask Robby first."

oooo

"I'm with Jamie," Lauren told Spock as they stood in the privacy of their bedroom. "This whole thing with Teresa gives me the creeps."

Spock raised a perplexed brow and nodded. "It is most strange. Teresa has always had a talent for trouble, but it is not like her to lie."

Lauren thought back to her med school psychology courses. "It sounds to me as if she's created a fantasy world for herself—an escape from the fears generated by the earthquake. She was trapped with the other children for over twenty-hour hours. She thought the rest of us were dead. Lord knows, we're all having problems dealing with everything that's happened. Jamie has nightmares, Teresa makes up stories. Maybe Jamie would do better if he made up stories, too. It might be therapeutic."

"So," Spock said, "we allow Teresa to continue her closet-gazing? Is that what you prescribe, Doctor?"

"For the time being." She could not think of any better way to handle the situation, and just now there was another matter that needed airing. "Okay," she declared, "it's now officially later. What have you been up to at Starfleet?"

Using an obvious delaying tactic, he asked, "Have you forgotten your walk?"

"I'm out of the mood."

His angular face set in determined lines. "You will not like what I have to say."

She waited.

"You have seen the news."

Lauren let out a sigh of exasperation. "So that's it. Yes, I know. Yesterday there an earthquake in Los Angeles—but not nearly as bad as ours. It's true that there's been a little shaking all up and down the coast…"

"A 'little'? Lauren, there are massive earth changes underway. Just today, the volcanic activity has—"

She interrupted. "I've told you, if we were in any danger, I would sense it. I always have, you know that. I don't care what anyone at Starfleet says. Remember how tense I was the day of the Big Quake? We all thought it was because of Toni having her baby."

Spock turned from her and stared out the window. Almost as quietly as Teresa he said, "You may as well know. We will not be rebuilding in San Francisco."

Pain stabbed Lauren's heart. With tears in her eyes, she admitted, "You're probably right about that. The city feels like a cemetery. But we can stay here."

Spock swung around and looked at her, plainly amazed. "I fail to understand how someone of your—" Breaking off, he collected himself and began again. "I have told Sorel not to expect me on Vulcan any time soon."

Lauren felt some relief. "Well, that's one blessing."

Continuing, he said, "Your leg is not yet fully healed, and Sorel knows we have lost our home." And then he added, "I told him that I must first settle our family somewhere safer."

"Please, let's not start again." Slipping her arms around him, she said, "You make me feel safe. Isn't that good enough for now?"

oooo

In the middle of the night, James awoke screaming. This time Lauren tended to him. He never gave in to tears, but it might have been better if he did. She wondered if he slept at all after these episodes, or lay awake like her.

When morning came, Lauren took the twins into town for Sunday Mass while Spock went among his fellow Yanashites who lived in the western region. Due to continuing resistance from Vulcan traditionalists, a steady stream of Yanashites had been immigrating to Earth. A priest had been recently appointed as their pastor, so now Spock was sometimes able to attend Kuru, taking with him a Vulcan youth with an interest in the faith. Sobek was only fifteen, and his occasional Yanashite smiles never ceased to amaze Lauren. She doubted if he smiled like that around his father, a geological engineer studying the failure of the Vulcan S.E.W. system. But at least Torval was allowing young Sobek some freedom.

Later, all of them sat down to lunch with their youthful guest, and Lauren soon noticed that Teresa was not eating. _Here we go again,_ she thought _._ Drawing on an ever-thinning store of patience, she said, "Teresa, what's wrong? Don't you feel good?"

The girl stared guiltily at her untouched sandwich. In an odd, quiet voice she said, "I'm not very hungry. Robby gave me a big Honeycrisp apple from a tree in his yard."

"That's not true," James countered loudly. "It's a sin to lie. Isn't that so, Father?"

Teresa's face crumpled and she began to cry. "I am not lying! I'm not!"

A sudden tremor rattled the old house. The children fell silent and stared warily at the ceiling.

"That's better," Lauren said when it was over. "Now see if _you_ two can stay quiet."

Young Sobek did a poor job of suppressing a smile.

After the meal, Lauren took James to her room and told him, "I want you to stop provoking your sister."

"But Mom…" he objected.

"But nothing," she said. "Let Teresa have her fantasy. It's not hurting anything, is it?"

James looked very much like his father as he thought about it. Finally he said, "I guess not."

Lauren went to the corner desk, brought out a fresh tablet of paper and put it into his hands. "I'd like you to do something for me. Make up a story—anything you like—and write it down in this. No one will read it unless you want them to."

His slanted eyebrows drew together in a frown. "What for? Isn't school enough?"

"James," she replied, "this isn't like a school assignment. This is just for fun. I bet you'll enjoy it."

Grudgingly he said, "Okay. But why can't I just use a Padd?"

"Writing longhand helps unlock creativity," she explained. "Your father wrote an entire book that way, and it's selling a lot of copies."

James took the tablet and left.

oooo

A sunny October came and went. Then November arrived, bringing rainstorms and gusty winds that sent the ocean waves crashing. James wrote in the tablet and his nightmares subsided. Lauren congratulated herself on solving at least one problem. Now if she could only figure out what to do with the Chagall. The beach house was not nearly as large as their home in San Francisco, and quite rustic by comparison. Everywhere she moved the painting, it stood out grotesquely. For the time being, it was propped over the fireplace mantel, where it looked more garish and out of place than ever.

Standing with Spock before a crackling fire, she stared at the offensive artwork and suggested, "Why don't we just sell the thing." It was far from an impulsive thought. She had been harboring the idea for days. "With Simon at Juilliard we could certainly use the money."

"Simon has only been there a few weeks," Spock pointed out. "Although I would prefer that he pursue his studies, he may want to return with me to Vulcan. We have given him that choice. Besides," he added, "the painting was a gift from your mother."

Lauren sighed. "I don't want to think about you leaving."

"These days," he said pointedly, "there are a great many things you don't want to think about."

She felt herself bracing for another argument. "You don't give up, do you?"

"Tenacity is a Vulcan trait."

"You're human, too."

His hand came up and fleetingly touched her face. "And that human part of me cherishes you and our children. Why else would I want you settled far from the earthquake zone?"

"And then you'll leave us," she said.

"Is that why you cling so stubbornly to this place? So that I won't return to Vulcan?" Seeing the obstinate set of her mouth, Spock did not wait for an answer. "You asked me what I have been doing at Starfleet. I will tell you plainly. Scientists have gathered there to study the geological situation. Grave calamities are predicted. Lauren, we _must_ move from here. It is no longer safe."

As always, the thought of moving brought an influx of fear. "Not now," she said, "not yet." Casting about for some new excuse, she added, "My leg…"

"The treatments you are receiving can be continued anywhere."

"But the children. They would have to change schools again."

"Lauren." His eyes seemed to accuse her of selfishness, and his words confirmed it. "Are you really thinking of the children's welfare?"

Ashamed, she stared into the flames and could not bring herself to answer.

oooo

At Thanksgiving, Jim and Antonia Kirk invited Spock's family and the Pascals to their ranch in Idaho. It was Lauren's first time out of the earthquake zone, but the relief she experienced was not enough to make her think of moving.

The day was cloudy and cool. Before dinner, Jim let the children take turns riding his most docile horse in a corral. Later they all went inside where the main attraction was Jim and Toni's infant daughter. At four months of age, Tru had lost the dark cap of fuzz she was born with, and her new growth of red hair surprised everyone. She wiggled and smiled adorably as her bright brown eyes tracked every movement around her.

Nine people sat down to dinner. Antonia offered a prayer of thanks for a safe birth and a healthy daughter, and for the survival of Spock's family during the earthquake. Inevitably, conversation turned to the continuing seismic activity. Lauren wished they would find something else to discuss.

Suddenly Antonia looked at her and said, "Laurie, wouldn't it be nice if you could move here to Idaho, near us."

"Yes!" exclaimed James, who particularly loved visiting "Uncle" Jim's ranch.

T'Beth had been studying her little sister and chose that moment to speak up. "Teresa, you've been unusually quiet. Would you like to live here in Idaho?"

Teresa sank down in her chair.

"Well?" T'Beth pressed.

Teresa stared at her plate. Her lips barely moved as she answered, "We're moving to Arizona."

The remark took Lauren completely by surprise. "What? No one has said anything about Arizona."

"Robby says," Teresa softly replied.

James let out a scornful laugh. "Teresa talks to people in her closet. What a liar."

"James Skon!" Lauren scolded as Teresa covered her face and began to cry.

Spock rose from the table and ushered James outside.

With a comforting arm around her daughter, Lauren explained to the others, "Teresa has a special friend named Robby. Only she can see him."

There was a restrained smile or two, but no one laughed. They all remembered the terrible hours following the Big Quake when Lauren and the children were trapped under the collapsed house, and Jim helped dig them out.

T'Beth said, "An imaginary friend. Is he nice?"

Teresa wiped her eyes and sniffled. "He's not imaginary."

"Of course not," Antonia said kindly.

Spock and James returned to the table, and there were no further outbursts from the boy.

oooo

The night was very still. Lauren lay awake, nestled against her husband's warmth in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Spock had gone dead silent on the subject of moving. Though they no longer argued, she strongly suspected that it was only a new tactic on his part. He had tried reasoning with her, and failed. Now he was doing his best to seduce her.

James was back at the Kirk ranch. It had been Jim's idea for him to spend a weekend in Idaho, the way he used to, before little Tru was born. Lauren had made James take the notebook and a good sharp pencil. As long as he kept writing, there were no nightmares, and that was how she intended to keep it. She was having enough trouble just dealing with Teresa. She had tried having T'Beth's daughter Bethany come for a visit. Teresa used to love playing with her little niece, but this time even Bethany had not helped the situation, and now Bethany was back home. Each day Teresa seemed to grow more withdrawn and unhappy. Now even her schoolwork was suffering. Lauren decided to talk to her in the morning, and she wanted Spock involved, too.

Sunday dawned with a chilly wind that held the promise of rain. Since late September Spock had been unable to interest young Sobek in a visit, and today the Yanashite priest was not in their region. At Lauren's request Spock joined them at Mass, and later drove to a quiet restaurant for lunch. The place was beautifully decorated for Christmas, but Teresa looked pale and disinterested as she picked at her food.

Lauren signaled Spock with her eyes. _Here goes._ Then very gently she asked Teresa, "What's wrong, honey?"

She froze.

"Is it Robby again?"

Teresa moved her head slowly up and down. "He says it's not safe. He says we have to get out of California."

For an instant Lauren almost wondered if Spock had put her up to this. But no—he would never use a child in that way.

Spock asked, "Because of the seismic activity?"

Teresa swallowed hard. Her eyes moved to her father, than back to her plate. "Yes, but you don't believe me. You think Robby isn't real."

Spock turned to Lauren. Raising one brow, he dryly said, "Your friend sounds like a very bright boy."

Lauren kicked him under the table.

Oblivious to the interchange, Teresa blinked her eyes hard and a tear rolled down her cheek. "Daddy, he says that he knows your mother."

Spock's face registered subtle surprise. "My mother has passed on from this life."

"He _knows_ her," the child insisted.

Lauren shared a lingering look with her husband. Finally she shrugged. At first, Teresa's fantasies had seemed harmless, but now she was not so sure.

"Teresa," Spock said gently.

Her wide eyes found him.

"This young friend of yours—he is only a figment of your imagination and you know it."

Fresh tears welled up and she cried, "Why doesn't anyone believe me?" Standing suddenly, she said, "I'm going to the rest room."

As Teresa rushed off, Lauren rose with the intention of following along, but changed her mind and settled back in her seat for a private word with Spock.

"This really has me baffled," she said. "What about you?"

"Her insistence is quite convincing," Spock replied. Then he added, "At times I wonder if her Robby… might be an actual entity. Though of course I did not previously believe such things, both Vulcan and Earth traditions hold many accounts of disembodied souls making themselves visible for one reason or another."

Lauren was astonished. "Spirits. Appearing to our Teresa. You're kidding, right?" Then she saw where this was leading and could not resist a bit of sarcasm. "Oh, I get it now. This disembodied soul has come to back you up. To say that it's just too dangerous here and we need to move right away."

The Vulcan temper flared. "I am glad that you are amused, but I find it very peculiar that Teresa mentioned my mother. I find this entire situation deeply troubling."

For once she did not snap back. Reaching across the table, she took his hand and said, "I know…and I'm sorry. It has me worried, too."

oooo

Christmas was drawing near. Lauren and James set up a fir tree in the living room and decorated it with new ornaments. Teresa sat watching, listless and miserable. The child's condition was becoming alarming. Though Lauren could not find anything physically amiss, she took her to a pediatrician for a second opinion. The doctor prescribed a sleeping aid and suggested a change of scene.

Lauren found herself torn between the need to help her daughter and the equally powerful urge to stay within the safe, familiar confines of the beach house.

These days, darkness came early. The children were upstairs, fast asleep. Lauren and Spock sat together on the living room sofa. He had turned on the news, but Lauren did not want to watch it. Since the dismal failure of the SEW system, there had been a rise in ill-feelings against its Vulcan designers, spawning various action groups. "Clean Up Earth", or CUE, used clever slogans like "We'll CUE you In" and "Take a CUE from us", but they were not referring to environmental issues. The "trash" they targeted were alien immigrants, and most specifically, Vulcans. And meanwhile to the north, Mount Shasta was erupting. Several towns had been evacuated. A huge column of ash was working its way eastward across the continent. There had been more quakes in Anchorage, Seattle, and Los Angeles.

Lauren rested her head on Spock's shoulder and pleaded, "Shut it off."

Disregarding the request, he turned toward her and his right hand moved to touch her face. She thought he might kiss her, but his fingers slid downward and settled onto the base of her neck.

Gazing fixedly into her eyes, he said, "You cannot keep hiding from reality. Must I carry you away from here by force?"

She recoiled as if from a snake. "Dammit, are you threatening me? With a Vulcan nerve pinch?"

"Yes," he openly admitted. "My behavior is quite unconscionable. It is just as the esteemed members of CUE assert; we Vulcans are not to be trusted."

Lauren studied him through narrowed lids. "My clever halfling. You think you've backed me into a corner. Checkmate. Is that it?"

He did not have a chance to reply. Suddenly, Teresa was standing before them in her pajamas.

"Screen off," Lauren quickly ordered, and the upsetting program went to black. Had the child been watching it? Or even worse, watching them?

"Teresa honey," she began, "you should be…"

Teresa interrupted, her voice panicky. "We need to leave here! Mom, Daddy, we need to leave _now!"_

It was enough to make Lauren wonder, yet again, if Spock and Teresa had planned this dramatic scene together. But the child's eyes looked so haunted that she could not possibly be playacting.

"We're alright," Lauren soothed, "everything's alright."

"No, Mom," she said tearfully, "something bad is going to happen. I'm afraid."

"Your father is right here. He won't let anything bad happen to you." Even as Lauren spoke the words, she knew they were meaningless. Spock had been home when the Big Quake hit, but that had not kept the roof from falling on them.

Teresa's chest heaved with emotion. "Robby says! We have to get out of here!"

Lauren reached out and pulled the sobbing child onto her lap. She held Teresa tight, all the while thinking. Indulging her fantasies had been a mistake. It was time to try a different approach. Using a new, firm tone, she said, "You're sleeping with us tonight. Tomorrow, you're switching bedrooms with your brother. I don't want you setting foot in that room again. Do you understand?"

Teresa nodded and seemed to calm down. After Lauren settled her into bed, she returned to the living room and paced stiffly back and forth on her leg brace.

Spock's voice cut into her thoughts. "Why did you tell her that?"

Sensing yet another quarrel brewing, she stopped and faced him. "Tell her what?"

He rose from the sofa. "That I would protect her—when, in fact, you are thwarting my every effort to protect her. Checkmate, you said. Lauren, this is not a game of chess. There are lives at stake. _Our_ lives. Why can't you trust me?"

"Why can't you trust _me?"_ she shot back. "My instincts have always been sound. If something bad is about to happen, I'd know it." Thoroughly irritated, she resumed pacing. "This problem with Teresa has gotten completely out of hand. Maybe Jamie was right. A lie _is_ a lie." Coming to a halt, she confronted Spock. "You've been curiously indulgent about all this. If it were Jamie acting up, you would have put an end to it a long time ago."

His eyebrow climbed. "Correct me if I am wrong. Did you not think it best that we allow Teresa to continue her fantasies?"

"I didn't hear you objecting."

" _You_ are better versed on human behavior. And even I know that punishing a frightened child would have harmful consequences."

"You've always favored her over the other children," Lauren accused, not for the first time.

"I disagree," he responded predictably. "Each child has different needs. They cannot be treated in precisely the same manner."

It was a useless argument. They both knew it, and for a moment neither of them spoke.

Then Spock said, "All this has reminded me of a story you once told about your own childhood. Rather like Teresa, you imagined a tunnel in your closet. It led to a place called Tallgrass Country, where you met all sorts of interesting characters."

Stunned, Lauren brought a hand to her temple. "That's right! How could I have forgotten? It must be because of my head injury, but as soon as you mentioned Tallgrass Country, I remembered. It all began in this very house when I came to spend a summer with my grandparents." She repressed a shiver. "About the same time, I began to have premonitions…"

"Fascinating," Spock remarked. "I was unaware that it happened here." Then his eyes widened. "Lauren. Think about what you just said. You suffered a serious head injury during the earthquake. Could it have affected your extra-sensory perception? Could that be why you cannot sense the danger now?"

oooo

Three in the bed made it crowded. All night Teresa tossed restlessly between Lauren and Spock, making it hard for anyone to sleep. Lauren spent much of the time praying. How she wished for the comforting flicker of a votive candle or Spock's attunement flame. After the quake, a fallen candle had started a fire in their old house, and now Spock absolutely forbade any open flames as long as the aftershocks continued. She knew he was right. Could he also be right about the Knowing?

In the morning James complained loudly about giving up his room.

"Don't tell me," Spock said to him, "that you are afraid of the boy in Teresa's closet?"

That silenced James, but he looked daggers at his sister and Lauren knew there would be more trouble.

After the children left for school, Spock flew up the coast to Starfleet and Lauren had the house all to herself. It would not take long to swap Teresa and Jamie's few belongings, since the furniture would stay in place. While she was unloading Teresa's closet, she came across a withered apple core and it gave her an eerie feeling. What was it Teresa had said about Robby giving her a big Honeycrisp apple? For a long time she stood staring into the shadowy space, trying to search out her old girlhood memories. _Robby. Robby._ The name meant nothing to her. Was this the room she had slept in as a child? Was this the same closet where she had imagined her secret tunnel?

Suddenly the recollection came, sending chill bumps over her skin. Yes! It _was_ here! Right here in this very closet! The tunnel where people told her about things that were going to happen.

All along, Spock was right. She had lost the Knowing, and if Teresa had inherited it, they had better the hell listen to her.

Driving her groundcar into town, she found boxes and quickly began to pack. When Spock came home, he took one look at the chaos, then said, "I have a house in mind, if it has not already been rented." And then he told her some interesting Starfleet news.

The packing was nearly finished when the children came home from school. James looked around at the boxes in the living room and asked, "What's going on?"

Teresa came up to Lauren and hugged her around the middle. "Hurry," she pleaded.

Lauren's fingers trembled as she smoothed Teresa's blonde hair and kissed the top of her head. They had secured a place to live. The Spanish style house was a bit run down, but affordable. It was located on a little acreage north of Phoenix, Arizona.

Lauren told the children as if it was a happy surprise, adding, "It has palm trees and orange trees. There's a burro named Paco and some chickens, too, if we want them. The landlord just built a new house next door, and they haven't gotten rid of the livestock yet. What do you think?"

"Arizona!" James cried. "Because Robby said? Why can't we move to Idaho and live by Uncle Jim?"

"This has nothing to do with Robby," Lauren told him. "Starfleet is evacuating its San Francisco base, and most everyone is heading to Phoenix. That's where I'll be working when I'm off medical leave."

James scowled at Teresa. "Are you _sure_ it isn't because of her and her silly Robby?"

Spock placed an armload of items in a box and said, "James, have you forgotten the discussion we had on Thanksgiving Day…out in Jim's barn?"

Jamie's cheeks flushed.

Spock said, "Your sister has always been kind to you. I expect you to show her the same consideration."

Jamie's gaze dropped, but his eyes narrowed with resentment. "Yes, sir."

oooo

The very next day, movers arrived. There was very little to transport besides the skimmer and their car. Lauren's brother Larry still shared ownership of the beach house. There had been no time to contact him on Gamma Vertas IV regarding the furnishings and kitchenware, so for now those items would stay. Lauren promised the children a shopping trip after they arrived in Arizona. Teresa hung close by her while James sulked and wrote in his notebook.

The Christmas tree was last to go, and it was time to follow their possessions to Phoenix. Lauren's heart ached as she said a silent goodbye to the old property with its many pleasant memories. There, at the edge of the surf, Spock came to her.

Choking back tears, she asked, "Do you think we'll ever be able to come back?"

He held her close and they spoke quietly for a time. Then the transporter beam delivered them in front of a strange house where their skimmer and groundcar were parked.

Lauren's mind registered warm dry air, a stretch of drought-proof grass, a scattering of palm trees. Brilliant sunshine reflected from the textured plaster of a Spanish style dwelling. Though she had seen pictures online, the sudden change of environment was still a shock.

Teresa was the first to break away. Lauren watched in wonder as she flung out her arms, spun in a joyous circle, and ran off to explore. "Come on, Jamie!" she called to her brother.

Sourly James shouted after her, "Well, you got what you wanted, didn't you? Go play with Robby!"

Spock skewered him with a severe look, and they went into the house.

That night they slept on the floor. Lauren lay beside Spock, gazing at the stars through a skylight in their bedroom ceiling. The house seemed strangely quiet without the soothing cadence of the ocean surf, but God seemed very near. After midnight, a breeze began gently stirring the palm fronds near their window, and she fell asleep.

In the morning Lauren went outside and raided the chicken house. There were eggs for breakfast, and oranges fresh from trees in the back acre. By afternoon, they acquired some pieces of furniture and a few other essentials that had been lacking. Already the place was starting to look more like a home.

Suddenly Lauren glanced at the bare living room walls and realized that something was missing. Had it been lost in the move? Or stolen? "Spock, where's the Chagall?"

He looked almost sheepish for a Vulcan. "It is on loan to the Phoenix Art Museum; I thought it was time that we share it." One eyebrow rose. "Do you mind terribly?"

Lauren broke into her first full smile in many days. Entwining her arm with Spock's, they went out back to help Teresa hitch the little brown burro to a colorful cart left by their landlord and neighbor. With help from a Datapadd, they unraveled the mystery of harnessing. Teresa's face glowed as she climbed aboard, took up the reins, and set off around the property. Chickens flapped their wings and ran for cover.

Laughing at the sight, Lauren said, "Well, that cinches it. Paco is staying right here. _And_ those chickens, too."

Spock turned and gazed into her eyes. "It is good to hear you laugh."

"I'm just so relieved," she admitted. "The earth steady under our feet, and look at Teresa! Did you notice how well she's eating?" Wistfully she added, "Now if only Jamie would snap out of it."

"The boy's attitude had better improve soon," Spock warned.

"He still blames Teresa for the move. Give him time." Lauren thought of James alone in the house, writing, and could not help but wonder what was in that notebook of his.

oooo

Early Sunday morning, Lauren noticed a neatly wrapped gift under the Christmas tree. Curious, she checked its name label and could hardly believe her eyes.

"Teresa, it's for you—from Jamie!" By the feel of the package, she strongly suspected that it was Jamie's notebook.

"Really?" Teresa looked with surprise at her brother.

The strange, taut smile on Jamie's face made Lauren uneasy.

After breakfast, Lauren and the children headed over to St. Luke Parish. They took a quick tour of the school, peeking into windows at vacant classrooms, before entering the church. Christmas was only two days away, but the interior was still decorated in the purple of Advent season. The building was more modern than their old church in San Francisco, but quite beautiful in its own way. The peace of God's presence settled over Lauren as she participated in the Mass with Teresa and James. When they went up together to receive Communion, she prayed that the darkness had truly lifted from the hearts of her children.

Afterward, they sat while a woman read the weekly announcements. Suddenly there a stir at the back of the church. A man came forward and took over the microphone.

His voice was tense. "There is an important news bulletin. Due to geological instability, the North American Union has ordered large-scale evacuations in the following states and province: Alaska, British Columbia, Washington, Oregon, and the Californias. As of nine o'clock this morning, a disaster plan is in effect."

The icy shock of the words slowly settled into Lauren. Her arms went around her children, one on each side, and drew them close. All over the church, people were talking. Some rose from pews and hurried out the doors. Up in the sanctuary, the priest called for calm and offered a moment of prayer. After the final blessing, the cantor led them in an old hymn, aptly named, "Be Not Afraid".

Tears spilled down Lauren's face as she sang. With a sad, knowing look, Teresa nestled against her. Jamie's wide, fearful eyes were full of questions.

Lauren left the church in silence, while all about her people speculated wildly.

Once inside the car, James burst out, "Did you know, Mom? Is that why we moved?"

It took a moment to find her voice. "I never thought it would be this bad."

"But you knew?"

"Quiet, Jamie," she said absently. She could barely keep her mind on driving.

At home, they found Spock sitting at the phone.

James ran in, shouting, "Father, Father, did you hear the news? They're evacuating the whole West Coast! I heard people say it's going to fall into the ocean!"

Lauren glimpsed T'Beth's face on the screen as Spock ended the call. Swiveling his chair, he grimly said, "Yes, I have heard."

Teresa went over and put an arm around his shoulder. "We're safe here," she assured him.

"Is it true?" James wanted to know. "Are we really safe?"

"We are really safe," Spock answered, then his eyes went to Lauren. "So safe that T'Beth and her family will be joining us for a time. That is the good news." He hesitated, clearly finding his next words very difficult. "There has been another severe quake in California, and this time there was a tsunami. I checked the satellite images. The beach house is gone."

It was not until bedtime that Lauren broke down and wept. In the privacy of their room, Spock held her.

"Never to go back," she sobbed.

"In life one can never really go back," he reminded her, "only forward. We are together. We are well."

"But now that we've moved, you'll be leaving."

"Not yet," he promised. "I will not return to Vulcan until you can bear the separation."

"But Sorel…"

"Sorel knows the importance of marriage and family."

When she grew calmer, he reached into a drawer and brought out a gift. "I want you to open this now," he said.

Lauren sat on the edge of the bed, peeled back the wrapping, and found a package of votive candles with a holder made of red Vulcan glass. She gave Spock a heartfelt kiss of gratitude. In a moment the lights were turned off and the new candle flickered before her earthquake-chipped statues of Jesus and Mary.

After midnight they were awakened by the bedside phone. Spock reached over and took the call on privacy mode.

"Yes," Lauren heard him speak into the handset. The silence stretched, then, "It will be alright. Of course you will come here, there is no question. Collect your belongings and I will arrange for your immediate transport."

Spock sat up and turned on the light. His face was somber. "It is young Sobek. His father died in the tsunami. I hope you do not mind that I'm bringing the boy here."

Lauren struggled to clear the sleep from her mind. "Of course not. We can help him contact his family on Vulcan."

Spock slipped on a robe and called the local transport hub.

oooo

On Christmas Eve, the house was bursting at the seams. Simon had arrived from Juilliard, and together with the grieving Sobek, was assigned an airbed in Jamie's room. T'Beth's family came in time to attend the evening Mass with Lauren and the twins. Lauren was pleased that T'Beth accompanied them. She knew that Spock's eldest daughter had begun a serious study of Christianity. She also knew why Aaron chose to remain home with Spock, Simon, and Sobek. Though Aaron had been raised Catholic, he no longer believed in God. That discovery had shaken T'Beth, but it was clear that the couple loved one another deeply.

Early Christmas morning, Lauren awoke to the sound of children in the living room. While Spock dressed, she put on a robe and ventured out. T'Beth had made coffee and cocoa to go with the rolls Lauren purchased from a bakery the day before. Good aromas permeated the house. Christmas carols played softly. Aaron sat watching his stepdaughter Bethany, while Teresa and James dug through the gifts under the tree.

Then everyone gathered.

Lauren was curious to see which presents the children would open first. Bethany tore into her gifts with the typical abandon of a five-year-old, but James only watched while Teresa reached down and carefully picked out his gift to her. Holding it, she looked at her brother curiously. Then she handed James a little gold box tied up in red ribbon.

His fingers reached to unfasten it.

"No, Jamie!" she stopped him. "Don't open the box—not ever. Just keep it always. You see, it's full of something special. It's full of love."

Lauren held her breath. She remembered telling Teresa an old story about just such a box, but never imagined the girl would take the idea and use it on her brother. How would James react? She knew that Spock had talked to him, and she had, too. But talking had never helped much before. She fully expected James to make some hurtful comment and toss the empty box aside. Instead, he looked at it and smiled.

"Go ahead, open mine," he said.

Teresa tore away the wrapper and Lauren recognized the now rather dog-eared notebook she had given James. Reaching beside her, she gripped Spock's hand tightly.

"It's a story," James said. "I wrote it for you. Go ahead, Resa, look inside."

Teresa flipped back the cover. As she read, her face lit with delight. "The title is 'My Sister, My Friend'." Raising tear-filled eyes to her brother, she said, "Oh, Jamie…thank you! Thank you!"

And though not a word passed between Lauren and Spock, they shared their own private moment of thanks.

oooOOooo


End file.
